By Your Side
by CharmingPromise
Summary: Tony Stark schemes with his fellow Avengers to help Natasha and Clint realize their feelings. Or…Captain America makes Hawkeye jealous at Iron Man's wedding. Clintasha multi-chapter fluff
1. Prologue

Title: By Your Side

Author: CharmingPromise

Rating: M (for safety's sake… might drop if it never gets there)

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters and am simply borrowing them a brief period of time. Thank you Marvel for inspiring my imagination. I use lyrics for chapter titles (and story title and penname) so for this story credit is due to OneRepublic. (further song aknowledgments will be required as the story progresses)

Part: Prologue/?

Summary: Tony Stark schemes with his fellow Avengers to help Natasha and Clint see their potential. Or…. Captain America makes Hawkeye jealous. Clintasha multi-chapter fluff (while still hopefully mostly in character)

Authors Note: I'm dipping my toe back into FF having not written anything since I was a teenager (under a different name) so be gentle with me. Reviews are much appreciated. I'm excited to have The Avengers causing me to fan-girl all over again.

AN2: The prologue is very short but I should have the much longer second chapter up soon!

* * *

Prologue

* * *

I woke up with the sun

Thought of all of the people, places, and things I've loved

I woke up just to see

With all of the faces, you were the one next to me

OneRepublic- If I Lose Myself

* * *

"For a supposedly brilliant man you certainly have more than your share of terrible, destructive ideas."

"Thank you." Tony quipped, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking from heel to toe as he regarded Steve solemnly. "So you're in?"

"Meddling, unnecessary, potentially relationship ruining ideas," Steve expanded. "No," he finished as he tugged on his second shoe and rose from where he had been seated on his bed, dressing for the day, prior to Tony Stark's intrusion.

"So you don't see it?" Tony demanded, trailing behind him as they left Steve's apartment in the newly christened Avengers Tower. "The longing looks, the heated stares, the pining sighs?"

"Natasha does not pine," Steve snorted.

"Fine. But they are our teammates. Our friends! And we could be doing them the favor of their lives."

"You just want to get involved in something that has nothing to do with you," Steve accused. "Your personal life is secure and content, much to your demented chagrin, so you have to go throw someone else's into turmoil.

Tony held the door and followed Steve into the tower's expansive shared kitchen. "Or I just want everyone to know the blissful happiness I have been so lucky to find."

Steve shot him a dubious look over the top of a box of cereal.

"Fine, maybe I haven't reached that level of enlightenment yet. But you know how those two get when they're in formal wear!" Tony reminded him, simulating an explosion with widely sweeping arms. "I don't need to feel inadequate at my own wedding. It's four days Stars-n-Stripes; you can do anything for four days. I'm asking you to escort a beautiful woman to a fabulous party. If it offends your gentlemanly sensibilities so much, you can think of it as nothing more than that." He could see Steve's resolve faltering and allowed him to contemplate the plan over his all-American bowl of Wheaties.

"Why do you think this will even work?" he finally asked, "They aren't exactly emotionally motivated people. They may have evolved past all that petty jealousy that you want to exploit here."

"They're human Cap. None of us are immune to that." Tony replied bluntly. "What they have is comfortable, it works. They aren't going to willingly take a chance on something uncertain that might destroy that."

"Exactly!" Steve exclaimed, pointing at Tony with his spoon for emphasis. "They are content! What right do we have to mess with whatever happiness they found? It isn't our place."

"Because they could be so much more. Comfortable is such a cop out for those two. They could be legends." Tony winced thinking that might have been a little over the top but he could see Steve's face soften. He really was a softie.

"He loves her," Tony continued. "So much that he would go forever without really having her if that's the only way to avoid the risk of losing her. He just needs a push. Show him that there are other ways she could be lost without ever seeing what could've been. They both deserve this, they deserve each other."

Steve sighed, "Why me?"

Tony executed a victorious fist punch into the air, knowing he had won, "Because you're Captain America. You're about truth, justice, and the American way."

"I didn't know the American way was manipulating your friends into potential heartbreak," Steve drawled, shooting Tony a look that said his compliance was still not guaranteed.

"Of course it is. Red cups, the second amendment, and manipulation of those nearest and dearest to you…. American as you get. Cap, you are a sensitive, idealistic soul who believes in love and will see that the ends justify the means." Tony clapped him on the back and headed for the door. "Also in the event that our dear friend Clint decides to take a richly deserved swing at you once all this plays out, I needed someone who could defend himself without destroying half my island in the process."

Steve rubbed a weary hand over his face as Tony disappeared from the kitchen, having correctly assumed his participation in this scheme. "To the American way," he said, using his spoon to cheers the now empty room.


	2. Chapter 1- Steal Your Heart

Title: By Your Side

Author: CharmingPromise

Rating: M (for safety's sake… might drop if it never gets there)

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters and am simply borrowing them a brief period of time. Thank you Marvel for inspiring my imagination. The song in this chapter is by Augustana and it is wonderful. (I am totally going to date myself since my musical tastes haven't changed since middle school)

Part: 1/?

AN: Thanks for reading my foray back into fanfic! Here is the promised loner chapter. Reviews are so very appreciated!

AN2: I am just proofing this myself so I sincerely apologize for grammatical and spelling mistakes! I hope they aren't so bad that they detract from the story.

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

Life is like a shadow

It never stays in one place

I'm standing here anyway

However long it takes to steal your heart

Gonna steal your heart

Gonna steal your heart away

Augustana- Steal Your Heart

* * *

Clint Barton liked to observe things from above. He derived a great deal of comfort in being several stories up from the ground.

It wasn't that he was an egotist who enjoyed lording over the world below; it was just from this vantage that his talents were best utilized. A keen sense of observation and a deadly accuracy made him the greatest sniper in the states, likely in the world, and that was a job best accomplished a few dozen feet overhead.

This position also afforded him the few rare instances of Zen in his rather chaotic life. From a circus performer, to a SHIELD assassin, and now an Avenger, his was not often a life filled with quiet contemplation save moments such as these.

Also, at this particular moment, his roost gave him an unimpeded view down his partner's shirt of her not insignificant cleavage.

Clint leaned a little further over the railing that surrounded the indoor track he was currently perched on the edge of. The gym took up an entire floor of Avenger's Tower and was impressive enough itself with all of the latest equipment and weights, but the full track circling the gym a few yards above, was one of Clint's favorite locations. It saved him the tortuous agony of the treadmill, and gave him a perfect vantage from which to take target practice at various items in the gym below. Which is what he had been doing until his partner walked in to distract him about 20 minutes earlier.

Natasha planted her feet and slowly swooped down into the next position in her yoga routine, giving him another glimpse down the neck of her oversized t-shirt. He would never gawk so openly to her face. Not only because she would forcibly and violently redirect his gaze, but because Nat had enough of that in her life.

Natasha was easily the most talented agent he had ever encountered, her skills putting his own admirable abilities to shame. As he had gotten to know her over the past decade, he had come to know her fierce intelligence and loyalty, and eventually, her quick humor, which he deemed to be one of the world's greatest hidden treasures. But all of this, the fundamental basis of _her_, was so often ignored by the world at large who viewed her primarily as a compilation of tits, ass, and a pretty face. She was a pro at using this distraction to her advantage, but she was so much more than the beautiful exterior.

But beautiful she was, and he was a heterosexual man with exceptionally good eyesight, at that. So when these rare opportunities to surreptitiously ogle his breathtaking partner presented themselves, he would be fool not to jump on them.

He owed it to her, and their ten years of partnership turned friendship to limit it to these private moments.

To do otherwise would be completely unfair to her and he figured he owed her that much, since he had already very unfairly fallen in love with her.

He did his best to keep this secret from her, and he was mostly certain of his success. Natasha was either unaware that things went far deeper than friendship on his end, or she was kindly feigning ignorance. Either way, he was grateful.

His mind flashed briefly to sweltering Summer night in Budapest when he got the first inkling as to the woman Natasha was becoming underneath the Black Widow and he knew that he'd been ruined for all other women.

Everyone around them around them seemed to know his dirty little secret, or at least they acted as though they did. Really they were only making assumptions based on the fact that anyone working so closely with such an attractive partner was sure to develop some sort of feelings. They had no idea exactly how much of a goner he was.

Most of their fellow agents at SHIELD had assumed they were at least sleeping together, since that's what attractive people with interlocking bodies are supposed to do. Clint was fairly sure that at least actually was on the table since Natasha treated her sexual urges like every other bodily function and addressed them with the same methodical practice. He would certainly be a convenient partner and she had offered as much once, not more than a month before the battle in New York with Loki. As tempted as he had been, Clint knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with her without blurting out embarrassing declarations of love and torpedoing the relationship he treasured most in this life, so he regretfully declined.

Ultimately, he knew they had something more important than that and he didn't want to prove to be just another disposable male in her life. He hoped that on some level she respected him for that choice. He used that thought to comfort him more and more since they had both moved into Avenger's (nee Stark) Tower and he saw her day and night in various stages of dress and undress, doing the mundane human things that people tend to do. For some reason when it was her, tasks such as dental hygiene and washing the dishes became a veritable sex show to his smitten brain. It was the most exquisite torture since despite the torment it meant he got to spend the majority of everyday with the best friend he'd ever had.

And that was really the crux of it. Clint was an affable guy and had never really lacked in acquaintances and passing friendships. He was well liked at SHIELD and his charming smile coupled with an easy laugh endeared him to most people he met. But until Nat, he had never had a true partner. He trusted her implicitly, not only with his life but with every aspect of who he was, with the small exception of his rather large crush on her. It was a bond he never experienced previously and he wasn't sure many people ever did. Clint was eternally annoyed with himself for falling in love with this essential person in his life. But so he had and so here he was, sitting in the rafters sneaking glimpses of her chest like some airborne peeping tom.

Natasha finished her yoga and moved on to some apparently ab-oriented exercises which had her reclined on a large pink exercise ball.

Deciding his masochistic side had enough indulgence for one morning; Clint chose to remind her of his presence. She clearly knew he was in there since she had discarded her headphones as soon as she came in and was blasting the maudlin singer/songwriter crap she had become so fond of lately through the gym's sound system. She only did that when she knew there was someone, namely Clint, to annoy with it.

He watched her calisthenics on the ball, feeling slightly disappointed that she found him so easy to ignore. He must be losing his edge, which is something that needed to be immediately rectified.

Clint raised his bow, which had been had been hanging loosely in his hands since his practice session had ceased, and leveled it at his target.

The pink ball disappeared with a pop and Natasha was deposited unceremoniously on her ass. Clint gave a triumphant whoop at the momentary look of surprise that Natasha was unable to fight from her face. Such a look was so intrinsically rare to her features it was like seeing a dog walking on his hind legs and wearing a silly hat; not completely implausible but incredibly unusual and hilarious.

Natasha's expression quickly shifted to one of annoyance. She had a surprising knack for pranks herself but Natasha Romanoff did not take kindly to being surprised.

She glared up at him from her seat on the floor before standing and pulling the arrow from the deflated ball. She heaved the arrow in his direction even as he hopped to his feet and moved towards the stairs. He watched the arrow fly by and was mildly impressed as he watched it bury itself in the wall to the left of him.

"I'm going to tell Stark you're ruining his exercise equipment," she threatened as he strolled over with a smug smile on his face.

"What are you, 5?" Clint asked, "No one wants to be friends with the tattle tale."

Natasha stuck out her tongue and Clint knew he was forgiven as he took a moment to relish this playful side she showed more and more since moving into their new home.

"Plus you're the one vandalizing his state-of-the-art gym. I'm pretty sure that's more than your basic drywall that needs repairing," he said, motioning to the arrow still tip first in the wall.

"That was my favorite one though," she replied, feigning a pout, "It was just the right size and level of inflation. I've been playing Goldilocks and the three bears with those balls for months now."

Clint felt a brief twinge of guilt, "I'm sure Tony can afford a replacement if you ask nicely."

Natasha grimaced and kicked the pink rubber that was all that remained of her favorite exercise ball. He knew she was still uncomfortable living in someone else's house, using the things they bought. If there was anything Natasha hated more than being surprised it was feeling indebted to someone. It was for that reason that she had been the last to move in after they all reconvened in Manhattan once more.

She lacked the social understanding Clint had, that part of Tony Stark would always be the ostracized little rich boy who thought he needed to buy his friends. It didn't matter that he had aged into a devilishly handsome and charming adult who could win people over with the merit of his character; he still had the compulsion to reward his friends with expensive gifts and favors. Clint had explained this to Natasha; saying that this was how Tony showed them he cared and it wasn't as if Stark was doing this to his detriment. He had more than enough money to spare for these extravagances. Now that he was part of the coolest clique on Earth, he was likely going to do everything in his power to make this work. Sure he had an ego bigger than their new residence, but this was as much for him as it was for them. Clint's point was quickly proven as Tony had turned stretches between missions into a series of keggers, movie nights, and slumber parties as he played his role of self-appointed social chair.

Natasha had begrudgingly allowed his line of reasoning and taken up residence in the bedroom/bathroom combo that Tony had designed specifically for her, but she still wasn't comfortable living on someone else's credit. Debt would always make her uncomfortable and she couldn't help but catalogue each kindness done her supposedly without the expectation of it being repaid. She was still getting used to the concept of being a friend, and a friend like Tony was an whole new animal entirely.

"If you feel that bad, I'm sure Tony would take sexual favors in exchange for exercise equipment," Clint teased.

The furrow between Natasha's brows deepened and her frown tightened, "I think Tony Stark and I might be the least sexually compatible individuals on this planet," she replied.

"Come on Tasha. He'll be a married man in a few short days. You don't want to have any regrets. Roads not traveled, and all that," he chided.

Natasha rolled her eyes, not even dignifying him with a response.

"Fine, if you're not off to ride the Iron Man in Stark's pants you can come have breakfast with me." This wasn't uncommon for the two of them to parlay morning workouts into shared breakfasts and Clint had a notion to make a habit out of it.

"Shower, then food," she allowed, pulling the hem of her oversized shirt up to wipe sweat from her forehead.

A stiff salute was all he managed as his brain and libido warred over how to respond to the flash of toned stomach.

Natasha Romanoff was a goddamn master in the art of intentional seduction, but it was the unintended moments that were his undoing. He just counted himself lucky it wasn't his shirt, since the sight of her in his clothes was enough of a distraction without the added show of skin.

The large Cal Tech t-shirt she was wearing now was probably Bruce's. He knew she had procured one of Tony's innumerable band tees and nondescript colored shirts from Steve and Thor as well. As for Clint, she had stealthily acquired several of his over the course of their partnership including his astoundingly appropriate Iowa Hawkeyes shirt, and a few of his own concert tees from a slightly later era than Tony's.

The collection of t-shirts might seem, to the uninitiated observer, to be a completely incongruous show of possessiveness in someone as pragmatic as Natasha but Clint knew it wasn't a matter of staking her claim, nor was it a catty dig at the women in their lives (though he couldn't swear they were as enlightened). Natasha had spent a far too large portion of her life as an empty vessel that personas were poured in to as necessity arose, and even after escaping that she lived a life almost completely disconnected from other human beings. It had been her status quo to not care about anyone and to be invested in nothing but her own survival. While it may have seemed lonely, it was all she knew and it was safe. Joining SHIELD and finding some purpose beyond herself had been enough of a mindfuck for her and now she was faced with the concept of actual friends. She was part of this misfit team of superheroes now, and they frustrated her endlessly as they slowly chipped away at all of her defenses. She would steal a shirt as a concession of defeat, to let them know that they had won her respect and grudging attempt at friendship, but at the same time she wore them as a dare to the previous owner to go do something stupid and turn it into something she wore in memoriam. She had kept herself walled off for a reason, and if they were so hell-bent on making her care, she needed to remind them that they were now beholden to her to never make her regret it by leaving.

"I'll meet you in the kitchen in 15," Clint said, giving her long red ponytail a tug as they parted ways at the stairs. Tony had indulged his preferences with the top floor while Natasha was just below the gym.

She snorted, "I'll plan on 20. I know the luxurious showers you like to take."

"Only when I'm thinking of you Tash," he called over his shoulder, and was around the corner before she could reply.

* * *

Like it? Love it? Hate it? I'd love to hear!

TBC


	3. Chapter 2- Memory

Title: By Your Side

Author: CharmingPromise

Rating: M (for safety's sake… might drop if it never gets there)

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters and am simply borrowing them a brief period of time. Thank you Marvel for inspiring my imagination. The song is 'Memory' and it's by Sugarcult. I'm not sure these will always totally fit the chapters perfectly in every circumstance but it's a revenant from my days of fanfic past and I'm kinda attached to the format.

Part: 2/?

AN: I am just proofing this myself so I sincerely apologize for grammatical and spelling mistakes! I hope they aren't so bad that they detract from the story.

AN2: Thank you so very much to everyone reading and reviewing! I love the support!

AN3: CA2- The Winter Soldier….. SO GOOD.

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

So get back, back, back to where we lasted

Just like I imagined

I could never feel this way

So get back, back, back to the disaster

My heart's beating faster

Holding on to feel the same

This may never start

I'll tear us apart

Sugarcult- Memory

* * *

Natasha was still shaking her head and marveling over her crass partner, and how much she had changed that he could get away with saying the things he did without violent retribution, as she descended the stairs to her apartment and waiting shower.

She heard footsteps thudding up the flight below and gave Steve a warm grin when they crossed paths on the landing of her floor.

"Morning Cap'" she greeted. She was not unused to seeing him running the stairs prior to his twice daily trips to the gym.

"Natasha," he said, pausing in his upward progress, which was not part of the typical routine, "Did you have a nice workout?"

"Pretty typical," she replied, caught off guard by his sudden desire for small talk. Steve was a fiend for exercise and he wasn't often one to stop and chat mid-workout. She could swear he looked nervous too, though to be fair that was not much out of the norm for Steve when they found themselves alone together. Natasha wasn't sure if it was her specifically that made him edgy, or if that was just his native state around women. She was pretty sure it was the latter.

"Are you excited for this weekend?" he pressed on.

Natasha pursed her lips to consider this for a minute. Excited wasn't really an emotion she identified with, though she did anticipate she would enjoy the upcoming trip with her teammates cum roommates cum friends-in-training.

"I'm very fair, beaches really aren't really ideal for me," she answered honestly.

Steve stared at her for an open mouthed second, clearly at a loss for what to say. For some reason he had apparently rehearsed this conversation ahead of time and she was obviously going off script.

"I foresee it being worth the sunburn though," she quickly added.

Steve nodded, the conversation having caught back up to where he clearly intended it.

Not even Tony Stark could plummet from space to his, however momentary, death, and not have some self-actualizing realizations. One being that this Avengers Initiative mattered and he was in 100% and the other was the obvious acknowledgement that Pepper was one of the greatest things to ever happen to him. While he might think marriage was an outdated and silly institution he owed it to her to hang up his mantle as 'playboy' and acknowledge to the world his better half. It was nearly two years since Manhattan had been partially destroyed, but the plans were finally in place and the wedding was set for the impending weekend on an island in the Caribbean that Tony had purchased for specifically this purpose.

It made Natasha squirm to turn on the TV and see rampant speculation on the "wedding of the year", complete with a superhero bridal party. Being an Avenger was very different than being a spy or assassin and she would never be happy with some stick insect on the evening news speculating whether she would wear black to a wedding, while a candid picture of her was superimposed in the corner of the screen. Fury had been right to declare her useless for undercover work, as infuriating as that had been for her to hear. At least Clint could still effectively prowl the roofs above and feel useful.

"Do you have an escort?" Steve asked in a rush, drawing her out of her contemplation of the weekend ahead.

"Am I supposed to?" she asked, startled, and immediately saw she had once again said the wrong thing as a flash of near panic crossed the Captain's handsome face.

"I just assumed Clint and I would go," she elaborated, "I guess we normally partner up for these sorts of 'missions' as well."

"Tony told me he invited one of the new SHIELD recruits," Steve said nervously.

"Who?" Natasha snorted, ticking through the new batch of female recruits in her head.

"I'm not sure- he didn't say…" he began but Natasha interrupted.

"Probably Scarlett," she mused, thinking of the young gymnast who had so impressed on the obstacle course they supervised together a few months ago. "He likes them blonde and flexible." She was a little uncomfortable with the sudden irrational distaste she felt for the tiny blonde agent and was afraid it was written plainly across her face.

"Maybe," Steve said, "I just thought-," he stopped and began again. "I figured since we're the only two without a date we could maybe just go together."

"Only if you wanted to of course!" he added hurriedly.

Natasha stared at him blankly, "Are you asking me out Captain?"

"It can be whatever you want," he assured her, ever the courteous gentleman.

Natasha tried to ignore the nagging sting she felt that Clint hadn't clued her in to his plans. He didn't have any obligation to her of course, but he spent most of every day with her in some capacity and she thought he would have mentioned it.

Clint had never been one to date over the years she had known him, and it was true that when events that required a date arose they typically just went together, but she had never really considered that this lack of romantic conquests might be a consequence of their job rather than personal choice.

Their identities splashed across the news and local gossip rags, meant that their work with SHIELD was mostly limited to teaching positions now, and crises of a magnitude that required the attention of the Avengers were not a daily occurrence, so the two spies definitely found themselves with more time to just…..be, than they'd ever had before. She shouldn't be surprised that while she used the time to catch up on her reading and practice some new fighting skills, Clint might be finally taking part in the human activity of dating.

Natasha was fairly certain that despite whatever feelings, she might be finding herself capable of recently, she would never be one for a practice as conventional as dating. She was only now realizing how much that might put her out of synch with the others.

Thor had been living in the tower since a battle with the dark elf Malekith put him back on the same plane as Jane and he decided he no longer wanted to be away from the pretty astrophysicist. While they hadn't officially moved in together yet, they were clearly devoted to each other and it went without saying that she would accompany him to the wedding.

Tony had finally pestered Bruce into acknowledging burgeoning feelings for Amy, the biochemistry grad student at nearby NYU where Bruce would occasionally guest lecture, and he made sure that the entire house was made aware when Dr. Banner broke down and invited her this weekend.

Now with Clint bringing some way-too-young-for-him recruit, she and Steve would be the only two Avengers attending solo. While it was of no concern to her that she did not have a date, she had seen the wistful side of Captain America that smiled fondly as their friends paired off and got misty during 'Shakespeare in Love' when they watched their way through 'Best Pictures' for a month worth of movie nights.

"Sure," she finally said, offering Steve a cautious smile, "We can go together."

The tension visibly drained from Steve's large frame and he returned the small smile with a beaming grin of his own, "That's great. Thank you Natasha," he said and she thought for half a second he was going to try and hug her before he settled for a friendly shoulder squeeze instead, which was shocking enough itself. She wasn't entirely sure Steve had ever actually touched her outside of actual combat.

"We can work out the logistics when we get there," he said, "I'll see you later."

Natasha could only manage a weak wave as he thanked her again and resumed his sprint up the stairwell. She finally opened the door and stepped out onto her floor of Avenger's Tower.

An entire floor would be excessive for each of their living quarters, so instead they each shared a floor with some other extravagant amenity Tony had chosen specifically with each of them in mind.

Banner had the predictable satellite lab in case he needed privacy not available on the 3 floors of R&D below him.

Tony had somehow anticipated Thor taking a liking for American cinema and gifted him with a movie theater from which he could often be heard laughing uproariously as he binge watched decades worth of terrible films.

Steve had a billiards room right out of 'Clue' with a pool table and darts and the small addition of two regulation size bowling lanes.

Clint was lucky enough to share space with a beautiful infinity pool overlooking NYC on his top floor. Natasha imagined the pool was more convenient placement than homage to Clint's tastes, though he was second only to Pepper when it came to frequency of use. Anything to get in some cardio without resorting to the treadmill she knew to be his policy.

Natasha bypassed a massive library on her way into the apartment, resplendent with fully stocked shelves that were broken up only by an ornate fireplace on one wall.

She closed the door behind her and shed her workout clothes on the floor of her bedroom while the shower warmed. She wondered if she had just made a terrible mistake accepting Steve's clumsy invitation in the hall.

She was fairly certain Steve Rogers felt more timid appreciation of her skills than he did romantic fervor. He toed a line of genuine respect for her abilities and utter incomprehension for her brand of overt sexuality. She enjoyed discussing books with him and the most effective way to take out an opponent using birthday streamers and a stapler among other challenging hypotheticals, but he would squirm uncomfortably and flush a deep red when she strode into the kitchen in a sports bra for a post-workout bottle of water. He liked her as a person but someone as virtuous as Captain America was never going to be truly comfortable with the things she had done and likely still would, so she was fairly confident this was just a harmless gesture of chivalry to save her the stigma of the singles table.

Natasha of course could care less about such social constructs but there was something about Steve's earnestness that made him a hard person to disappoint. Almost as much as his sincere gallantry, she had been possessed by some destructive need to throw caution to the wind upon hearing about Clint's 'date'.

She knew that Steve was attractive. Every one of the men that claimed membership in the Avengers was objectively handsome and she was not unwilling to admit as much. In the past all she required of her sexual partners was an attractive face and a willing participation but she sensed that this was a line better not crossed with this particular group.

She enjoyed sex enough and had needs that an attractive co-worker could at least begin to fulfill. The visuals were enjoyable enough, and she was always back in her own room shortly after the panting conclusion to finish their job half-done under the warm spray of her shower. Natasha leaned back into that selfsame shower spray to rinse her hair as she considered for the second time this morning just how much she was evolving.

It wasn't just that most of them were in committed relationships with women for whom she had a great deal of respect, though that was part of it. It was also that she simply had too much respect and affection for these new friendships to tarnish them simply in order to scratch that particular itch. It was a new breed of relationship that she had only come to understand through years of platonic partnership with Clint. A parallel she was no longer comfortable with since she was starkly aware of how recently she had nearly crossed those firmly established boundaries with that particular teammate and to whom she found her mind wandering now.

She had always been attracted to Clint Barton. His face might lack the symmetrical perfection of some but she had always found his brand of rugged handsomeness more alluring. Each scar or imperfection gave his face and form character. Below the neck wasn't grounds for being tossed out of bed either. His ass in a pair of jeans made her consider worship at the altar of Levi Denim and she was of the opinion that his toned archer's arms were the epitome of what arms should look like. Even her most concentrated efforts could not ignore the heat uncurling deep in her abdomen at the sight of his muscular forearms when he snapped his bow into commission.

Attraction was something she could handle. It was chemicals and hormones; synapses firing in a predictable and familiar way. It was the unaccustomed reactions she was having to seemingly innocuous behavior that caused an increased alarm.

It was the spreading warmth in her chest at the open smile he gave her whenever she entered the room. It was the tightness in her diaphragm when he'd nudge her in the middle of a briefing to snicker over one of the inside jokes on their ever-expanding list. It was when she realized she had stopped reading in the middle of a page and drifted into the memory of a recent joke or story he'd told. This was all new in her repertoire of human interaction and emotion and she could no longer deny that Clint Barton had become a distraction for her.

From his well-muscled torso to his blue-grey eyes, she was completely at a loss as to how to handle this frightening dynamic with the one person she didn't think she could live without.

She had propositioned him over a year ago now, before Loki, before things had even gotten truly scary and confusing. She thought that if she could just get it out of her system things would right themselves in her head. If she could wrap her legs around his hips and ride him until they screamed, he would revert back to 'just another man' on par with all the others. She could eat breakfast next to him as she did with anyone else and not notice that he rubbed the back of his neck when he was deep in thought and that he chewed his thumb nail while he read.

She was both surprised and not when he had declined the invitation. Surprised because so few men did, and not because he was Clint.

And then Loki happened. And those three words: 'Barton's been compromised'.

Natasha didn't believe in souls but she imagined that's what people were referring to. That bottoming out of everything that she knew and was. She was far more down this path than she had been willing to realize and she realized she wasn't finding her way out simply by getting him naked.

Natasha Romanoff was exactly as strong as she was reported to be, but in this one respect she was wretchedly unprepared to deal. So she did the only thing she could think to do and deliberately ignored each small betrayal by her body and mind in his presence. It was only when she was forced to address feelings of any sort for anyone, such as Steve had just necessitated, that her traitorous mind ended up falling on Clint.

She was always prone to warm showers, hot nearly to the point of scalding if you asked a lesser person, but for the next few minutes Natasha twisted the knob to ice cold in an attempt to shock herself out of such an unsettling headspace.

For once, she was the one late to breakfast.

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TBC… Each and every review is appreciated! Thank you so much!


	4. Chapter 3- Mixtape

Title: By Your Side

Author: CharmingPromise

Rating: M- language gets adult in this chapter

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters and am simply borrowing them a brief period of time. Thank you Marvel for inspiring my imagination. The song for this chapter is Mixtape and it belongs to Butch Walker.

Part: 3/?

AN: Thanks for reading my foray back into fanfic! All of the reviews and favorites/follows are so encouraging thank you all so much! I hope this continues to live up to expectations because I'm having a lot of fun writing it.

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Chapter 3

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You say hello, inside I'm screaming I love you

You say goodnight, in my mind

I'm sleeping next to you

You drive away

From my car crash of a heart

And I don't know

But you gave me the best mixtape I have

And even all the bad songs aint so bad

I just wish there was so much more than that

About me and you

Butch Walker- Mixtape

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Clint glanced at his partner over the top of his Kindle and saw her still seemingly engrossed in her book. He had spent a few hours after breakfast down in the garage tinkering with his favorite of Tony's exorbitantly expensive vintage cars, fighting the urge to seek out the redhead with whom he was currently sharing a couch. He had eventually given up wasting time and found her where he so often did on lazy afternoons, curled up on the sofa in the library while Bruce paged through the latest issue of Scientific American in a chair nearby.

Natasha was very committed to reading in the traditional sense, turning the pages of hard bound books, that lived on shelves with a bookmark saving her place, whereas Clint was content to move into the 21st century with an entire library available at his fingertips via Amazon Whispernet. He had percentages instead of page numbers and e-ink that changed size and font at his whim. She was working her way through each and every classic included in the United States curriculum in between lengthy Russian tomes in her native language while he was reading Pet Cemetery for the third time. He saw the glances Natasha threw his Kindle, full of utter distaste, and he mocked her for being such a purist but they spent many afternoons in exactly this position enjoying each other's company in companionable silence.

There was something disarmingly endearing about seeing her curled up with one of her oversized books. Natasha was such an imposing figure when she was at work; it was easy to forget exactly how small she actually was. Sitting on the over-stuffed couch with her feet curled up under her in a moment of relaxation, she looked the rather diminutive 5'3'' she actually was. She wore a plain white tank top and worn grey sweats with her long red curls pulled back in a haphazard ponytail. A few errant strands had worked loose from the band to frame her face and she was persistently tucking them behind her ears as she continued reading. It was the softest and most peaceful that Clint ever got to see her with the exception of the small line of tension currently furrowing her brow.

She had been unusually quiet at breakfast and had disappeared upstairs as soon as her morning smoothie was drained. While not usually the most talkative person in any room, she had been noticeably subdued, especially given her playful manner in the gym less than an hour earlier.

Clint knew Natasha well enough not to pester her for an explanation, if she was upset with him he would hear about it soon enough. Natasha wasn't the type to give him the silent treatment or administer other such passive aggressive punishment he had experienced from women in his past. If she was angry with him she told him as much, often punctuated by guttural Russian curse words and explicit instructions as to exactly what he needed to do to rectify things. This directed silence meant she was still considering something, puzzling out how she though and felt. Yes, he knew better than to nag her, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried about what was percolating in that fiery head of hers.

He had struggled to give her some time to settle in with her book before joining her to silently wait out this internal debate until she decided to clue him in on her mood.

Clint turned his attention back to his book before he could be caught staring, something he had been doing a dangerous amount of today he reflected. For being so desperate to conceal his feelings, he certainly was doing his damndest to get caught, because there was no way he could look at her in moments like this without everything he felt for her plastered across his face.

He was quickly distracted again from his tale of reanimated cats and toddlers when Tony entered the room.

"So this is where all the boring people hole up for the day," he accused.

Bruce didn't even look up from his magazine and Natasha's withering glare said everything she wanted to convey, so Clint sighed and laid down his Stephen King.

"Didn't get enough Reading Rainbow as a kid? Take a look, it's in a book," he sing-songed.

"You can serenade me later," Tony replied, "Right now I'm concerned about your preparedness for my nuptials this weekend since nothing here remotely resembles excitement."

"I'm saving up for the reception," Natasha responded dryly, never looking up from the page in front of her.

"You two especially!" Tony shot back pointing at Natasha and Bruce, "Gloom and gloomier better bring the merriment. If that means you have to stockpile until then by reading up on Popular Science and Dostoyevsky, so be it."

Bruce raised his magazine to show Tony the cover by means of correction and Natasha followed suit by tapping the spine of her book where 'Tolstoy' was clearly embossed.

Tony waved a dismissive hand at them and turned his entire attention on Clint.

"So my fine feathered friend, have you found a partner to do-si-do with this weekend? Pepper allocated a seat just in case."

Clint saw Banner shoot Tony a warning glare and a small head shake but he failed to see the harm in the line of questioning and responded, "Tash and I have been such a hit at formal events of days past, no need to break up the gruesome twosome right?" he asked, smiling at his partner on the other end of the sofa. He wondered if she was thinking about the bottle of vodka they stole from behind the bar and secreted up to the roof at the last SHIELD Christmas party.

Clint Barton had keen eyes and an extraordinary talent for observation. It made him the remarkable sniper he was and gave him the edge in a fight as some nearly imperceptible tic gave away his opponent's next move. More than that though, it gave him an uncanny ability to read people.

A narrowing of the eyes, a tightening of the mouth, every slight facial clue giving him a sense for what people were thinking and feeling. Some people were easier to read than others. Jane was an open book even this early in their acquaintance while Bruce was more guarded, for obvious reasons.

Natasha, however, was in a league of her own. Inscrutable was her natural state and with some effort on her part she was could be unreadable. Despite this, over the course of a partnership they had developed their own means of communication, a silent dialogue that had so often been the reason for their survival and it made them the unparalleled team that they were. At this moment though, gun to his head, Clint couldn't have said what she was thinking.

She had lowered her book a few inches and was simply staring at him as he conversed with Tony. Clint felt a mild unease creep in and his smile faltered.

"Well this is interesting," Tony said, drawing Clint's attention back to him and away from the cool green eyes that remained pinned on him. "I thought you two talked."

Clint looked between Tony and Natasha, aware that he was out of the loop on something but struggling to fathom what it could be. Fortunately, he wasn't kept in the dark for long, as Tony seemed eager enough to fill him in. Bruce tossed his magazine on a side table and gave Tony another icy glare on his way out of the room, further piquing Clint's interest.

"I just finished a conversation with the Captain and it seems Miss. Romanoff accepted his invite this morning," Tony revealed.

Clint felt the bottom drop out of his world momentarily and knew that his mouth had similarly dropped open. He could hear his teeth click together as he quickly snapped it closed, trying to regain some composure as Tony was watching him keenly for a response and he could feel the red head in question still studying him closely.

Clint was always waiting for that dark handsome stranger to walk into their life and walk back out with Natasha. For all of her talk of love being for children, love being a weakness she could ill afford, he knew that she felt very deeply for a great number of things. It was only a matter of time before someone came into her world and showed her that you could feel that way about another person, without the world falling apart.

Whatever indescribable torture she had been subjected to before they met, however many times she had been unmade and abused, those monsters had destroyed her faith in human connection, but not her ability to experience it. Natasha was far too strong to be broken and whether she realized it yet or not, it was still well within her psyche to fall in love. It was a testament to her strength, and Clint would never deny her that blessing when she finally found it.

Despite having steeled himself for this inevitability he had never seen _this_ coming. He was waiting for the whirlwind of some great romance. Someone with an equally tortured past, pouncing in to steal her in one fell swoop. He was expecting it to be years from now. Not like this.

Not tentative first dates with a close personal friend he played pool with. This would be torment on a whole new level, watching their relationship evolve while feeling her slowly slip away. I would be death by a thousand paper cuts instead of the swift nuclear blast he had expected. And he had _never_ imagined it would be Steve.

He had nothing but respect for the earnest soldier, painfully out of his time. His patriotism and faith in humanity in the face of so much bullshit, so often, was truly admirable, if a little naïve, and he and Clint had an easy friendship that he genuinely valued.

He had never considered that while they tinkered side by side in the garage or faced off in (rather one-sided) games of darts that Rogers has been harboring any sort of yearning for Natasha.

It went without saying that every man in the house wanted her. He was frequently tamping down jealousy as Thor, still lacking some vital human social graces, stared openly at her shapely ass when she left a room. He couldn't fault them for noticing what was plainly obvious to anyone with a functioning ocular nerve and he had no legitimate claim to her that warranted their respect.

He had seen Steve flush and stammer in her presence or offer the occasional compliment on an impressive mood mid-sparring session, but there was something about his obedience to authority and idealism that didn't gel romantically with Natasha's cynicism and smoldering sexuality in Clint's mind.

He had been informed by Tony in a dozen words or less that some of his very strongly held ideas were utter bullshit.

"You two should really talk," Tony admonished.

"We…talk," Clint mumbled lamely.

"He said you were bringing Scarlett," Natasha finally said, her face still utterly unreadable.

Tony raised his eyebrows, silently impressed. He hadn't provided this little detail and he wondered if it had been an inspired embellishment by the Captain or if he had been more right about this than even he imagined and Natasha's burgeoning jealously had filled in the nameless role.

"Who?" Clint asked helplessly, completely confused as to how they ended up here. He rubbed the back of his neck, wracking his brain to connect a face to this currently meaningless name.

"He said it was a recruit," Natasha supplied, the first hint of distrust and confusion causing the furrow in her brow to return.

Clint froze, his hand still grasping the back of his neck.

"The blonde? With the splits?" he asked, a creeping realization coming over him.

Natasha didn't even nod, she just looked at him pointedly and he swore loudly, leaning back into the sofa and bracing himself on the arm and back so that he could look at her fully.

"Jesus Christ Natasha, she's 19 years old."

He could see her actually look mildly embarrassed and she shrugged rather helplessly.

He knew she had some sort of misguided impression that he favored blondes. Little did she know he just favored her had a bit of a fascination with her as a blonde.

He thought he had been pretty casual about it but she had clearly felt his hungry gaze and lingering touch on their mission in Prague. They were sent to break up a human trafficking ring run by a kingpin with a notorious penchant for blondes. Something about the white blond hair setting off her flawless skin and kalediscoping green eyes had reduced him to a useless idiot nursing a ceaseless erection for nearly a week. He was lucky it was his job to stare and lucky that Natasha was good enough to rarely need much back up.

"I could be her father Nat," he continued heatedly, disgusted with the situation and himself that she honestly believed he could be interested in someone 15 years his junior. He had struggled enough with 24 year old Clint's attraction to 18 year old Natasha all those years ago.

"She's a pretty girl Barton. I'm only repeating what I've been told." The confusion was fading and he could hear an angry edge in her voice.

Clint tried to reign in his own anger and frustration but it hurt to hear that the woman he was in love with could be so easily convinced of his interest in a girl. That, on top of the bomb Tony had dropped, had him struggling to control a wide array of emotions.

"How the ever-loving fuck was he led to believe that?" he asked after a couple calming breaths. "I haven't seen her since orientation Nat, I swear."

Natasha opened her mouth to respond but Tony quickly interjected.

"You know how it is around there, rumors spread like lice in daycare. SHIELD is basically a high school full of incredibly agile adults."

He clapped Clint reassuringly on the back as he stood, "Don't worry Barton, Pepper has some moderately less atrocious cousins who would fight to the death for a dance with the famous Hawkeye."

"I'll be sure to pack my suit," he responded dully, "wouldn't want ladies killing each other over anything but the genuine article."

"That's the spirit," Tony said enthusiastically. "And if you'll excuse me I have some wedding night undergarments left to pack. Wouldn't want to disappoint Mrs. Stark with lackluster underwear on our first night together."

Neither Natasha nor Clint acknowledged the joke as Tony sauntered from the room.

"I wouldn't keep something like that from you," Clint promised, seeing that any rising anger had quickly dwindled in his partner. "I tell you when my vitamins make my urine funny colors, I'm certainly going to clue you into my love life when I so manage to have one."

Natasha gave him a funny little smile that he could not decipher. So much for secret partner language.

"And I remain so grateful for those bathroom updates," she teased before becoming completely serious. "It's not a love life Clint. I don't know why I believed you wouldn't mention it to me, it just seems like a logical next step for you to find someone and start dating so I guess I thought maybe you thought it went without saying."

Clint thought he heard a note of sadness but he knew that the optimistic part of his brain was prone to imagining things when Natasha was involved. The idea of him dating someone else had clearly come as a matter of due course to her, not inspiring any great deal of feeling one way or the other.

"So you and Rogers?" he offered, hoping the bitterness of the phrase on his tongue wasn't audible.

"He thought everyone had a date and so he asked," Natasha responded, "Honestly I think he just wanted to save me when he heard you were bringing someone, he has that compulsion to protect his friends' virtue and that sort of chivalrous stuff. I thought you had plans and he isn't an easy person to disappoint," she finished.

"Guess this is my fault for assuming your availability," he said, effectively absolving her of any guilt over abandoning her partner.

"Tony's right, we should pack," Natasha said to break the silence in which his regretful half apology hung. She slid the ridiculous tacky-cute kitten bookmark he had bought her into her book and tucked it under her arm. "We can still steal from the bar," she promised as she headed for the door of her bedroom.

"Is it really stealing if it's an open bar?" Clint asked, pretty sure this time the bitterness and regret he felt was dripping from every word.

Despite her assurances to the contrary he couldn't help but feel like this was both a first date and the beginning of the end. This was Captain fucking America and maybe despite their differences, Steve's positive selflessness was exactly what Nat needed and deserved.

Natasha paused at her door and looked back, "I'm sorry," she said quietly before leaving through the door for her apartment.

For the life of him, Clint couldn't have said exactly what she was apologizing for.

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TBC... Reviews make my day! Thanks for reading yall!


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